Serve in Heaven
by Neci
Summary: Remus never realized that being a servant of the light would be so costly.


Sirius thought that I would be the one to betray them. 

Logically, I suppose he was right. I _was_ the most likely to turn to Voldemort. I'm a werewolf, a dark creature, and for all my good intentions, on a full moon I wouldn't know Harry from Lucius Malfoy. Of the four of us, I was the most vulnerable… and the one with the most to gain. 

You see, Voldemort wanted to recruit werewolves to be his personal attack dogs. In return, he promised us gold and glory and a life free from prejudice. That was years ago, when I had friends and a happy life, and few knew of my condition. A few galleons weren't worth my soul and the destruction of the wizarding world. 

But now when the moon is waning and I'm sitting alone, bandaging the wounds I inflicted on myself while under the wolf's control, I can't help but wonder if a life under Voldemort might be easier. Get back at Snape, at Sirius, at every person who ever gasped and cringed away when they found out what I was. Even the score and demand equal rights for my people. Find the acceptance in the shadows that I've never had in the sun. 

In the light, we dark creatures are shunted away and hidden while we beg for table scraps. They want to make us dogs; Voldemort would make us wolves. With _him_, I would stand in the inner circle. It would be Moony and Wormtail again-- the outcasts, never quite good enough to stand with the heroes, always forgotten and ignored. Peter always understood me, never flinched away when the wolf grew too strong. _He_ knew what it was like to feel the call of the dark, to be too weak to stand against your own nature. James and Sirius… well, they had each other, didn't they? The master pranksters, the Quidditch stars, the Head Boy and his best mate. They didn't need the werewolf and his bumbling fool of a friend. We were supposed to be equals, brothers, but when it came down to it, it was always the same. James and Sirius. Remus and Peter. _Always_. 

Now it's Sirius and Remus; it has to be. We're all that's left of the famous Marauders. A werewolf and a murderer-- a pathetic tribute to the greatest team of pranksters to ever walk the halls of Hogwarts. I know I'm supposed to blame Peter for this, but it's hard to leave behind nine years of friendship and twelve more of revering his memory. 

Sirius spent those twelve years knowing Peter had betrayed James and Lily, had betrayed us all. I'm still adjusting to the idea. When the traitor was standing before me in the Shrieking Shack, I couldn't deny what had happened. But now, hundreds of miles and a year distant from that night, all I can remember is Peter sitting on my bed in the Gryffindor boy's dormitory after the full moon. I was bloodied and bruised, and extracted from the stuttering Peter a terrible oath-- that if ever I should lose my self to the wolf, he would see that the monster was destroyed. I never realized until now what I had asked of him. The creature that masquerades as Peter now is little better than a monster, and I cannot help but think that it would be a mercy if he were... put down. I even think that's what Peter would want. But that is a terrible thing to ask of a friend. This monster wears his face, and I cannot bring myself to hate him. 

In the end, perhaps I will have to leave the justice to Sirius. For him, it is so much clearer, so much easier. Kill the man who betrayed your best friend. Bring light and goodness to the world, and go out for a butterbeer afterwards. 

A lot of things are easier for Sirius. 

He came to me after the Tri-Wizard debacle, wet, bedraggled, and smelling slightly like dog. In that moment, he looked just as he had a year before in the Shrieking Shack: sunken eyes and gaunt figure, with that same desperate look in his face. 

"Why did you forgive me, Moony?" 

There's no answer to that question. Merlin knows I didn't _want_ to. I wanted Peter to be innocent, and Sirius to be dead or in Azkaban or just _gone_. But Fate has never given me what I wanted, and I knew that this was my last chance. If I didn't accept Sirius, I would be finally and completely alone. 

In the end, I didn't have a choice. 

Sirius sleeps on my couch now, awaiting Dumbledore's next command. There's not much to do while we wait; a known werewolf and a convicted murderer can't exactly go out for a drink at the Three Broomsticks or window-shop in Diagon Alley. We talk, mostly, talk until our voices are hoarse and our eyelids droop. I've learned more about this man in one week than I did in seven years at school. We're more alike than I ever guessed, for we both fear following our best friends' fate: Sirius dreams of death at Voldemort's hands, and I see myself at the monster's side. I am terrified that I might join him-- and horrified that I want to. 

Perhaps Padfoot will be here for my next transformation. A part of me desperately wishes it were so. The other part wants him to go away and never return. But regardless of what I want, one day, perhaps tomorrow, or next week, or three weeks from now, a letter will come from Dumbledore and Sirius will go, leaving me alone again with the wolf and my demons. 

Sirius and Harry are all that I have left. For their sakes, and for James and Lily, and for the Peter I once knew, I will not destroy myself. I will close my eyes and pretend to be content to serve in heaven. I just wish that it wasn't so hard. 

---- 

Author's Note: Yes, yes, I know. Popular wisdom says that Remus and Sirius were best friends, or even lovers. But, hey, this is a Neci-fic, so things are bound to be a little twisted. The title, of course, comes from the famous line from Milton's Paradise Lost: "_Here we may reign secure and, in my choice / To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell / Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven_." 


End file.
